


Handsome Ride

by ckret2



Series: Writing Warmups (daily page-long drabbles) [18]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Business, Crack Crossover, Crack Relationships, Drabble, Eridium Is Energon, Extreme Flirting, Flirting, M/M, Mechaphilia, This is just non stop flirting from stop to finish yall, Xenophilia, assholes flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 20:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20823320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ckret2/pseuds/ckret2
Summary: ”Check out thisbody.Smooth. Sleek. And look at that paint job—the red says ‘timeless classic married with youthful energy,’ the gradient fade says ‘creative and innovative, but I’d never support arealgraffiti vandal.’ And juuust enough gold detailing so you know the driver’s rich but not so much he looks insecure about it.""And you’re not too bad looking yourself,” the car replied. “Handsome Jack, isn’t it? Mind if I just call you Jack? Mind if I just call you Handsome?”The Decepticons would like to propose a business deal with Hyperion.





	Handsome Ride

**Author's Note:**

> So today I said I wanted to write a crack pairing and asked for prompts, and one prompt I received was "Miki x Godzilla, Handsome Jack x Knock Out, Prowl x That Cop From Hot Fuzz (listen, you said crack and extremely unusual. i shot for the moon)"
> 
> Obviously, I couldn't not.

"Oh, wow." Jack rushed right past the other cars Mr. Blake was showing him—options for his first tour of the Opportunity construction site—and directly to the hot red number at the end. “Hey there, gorgeous. Didn’t see _you _there." 

Behind him, Blake mumbled, “I don’t think that one’s on my list of…" 

"Check out this _body._" Jack traced two fingertips along one line from over the front left tire to the back of the door. “Smooth. Sleek. And look at that paint job—the red says ‘timeless classic married with youthful energy,’ the gradient fade says ‘creative and innovative, but I’d never support a _real _graffiti vandal.’ And juuust enough gold detailing so you know the driver’s rich but but not so much he looks insecure about it. Oh yeah. This is the one." 

"Sir, I don’t think this is one of—“ 

"Shut up and call the flower children in our graphic design department, I want this beauty photoshopped in place of that hideous fur rug they’ve got me lying on for November of next year’s pinup calendar." He ran his hand over the hood. “What would you call this color—crimson? Candy apple?" 

The car replied, “I consider myself more of a torch red, actually." 

Jack pulled his hand back, staring at the car. 

“And you’re not too bad looking yourself," the car replied, in the kind of voice that usually came from a man leaning one elbow on a hotel bar and holding a fifty dollar drink while he gave another business traveler a slow, arched-eyebrows up-and-down leer. “Handsome Jack, isn’t it? Mind if I just call you Jack? Mind if I just call you Handsome?" 

Jack turned in the direction Blake had gone to call graphic design and shouted, in a voice a bit higher pitched than usual, “Who programmed this car? I love this car." 

"Oh, _please._ No one _here _programmed me. At the company that made Claptraps?" The car scoffed. “You’ve improved your aesthetics since then, I’ll give you that, but you’ve never put out a robot I’d want to talk to for more than five seconds." 

"Got to admit, it’s a novel experience for me too." Jack eyed the car a tad more warily as he shifted a step back. “So, mind explaining what you’re doing in a giant H-shaped Hyperion space station if you’re not a Hyperion product? What are you, exactly—Maliwan?" 

"You flatter me." The car’s body split into pieces. As Jack watched, they twisted around a shifting metal chassis, rising into the air—like a JET Loader changing modes but infinitely more sophisticated. It continued speaking as it reconfigured itself: “I considered going to Maliwan, actually; but we prefer your company’s work with—and access to—energon." 

"’Energon’?" 

When its parts had stopped moving, the car was a kneeling, smirking robot with the kind of broad-chested narrow-waisted physique that some execs would pay millions to have their heads grafted onto. “I believe your species calls it eridium?" The robot held out a business card the size of a poster. “Knock Out. I represent the Decepticons—don’t mind the name, long history there—and we’re looking into expanding our energon mining operations. Our market isn’t human, so we won’t be cutting in on any of your business. You’ve got nothing to lose." 

"Robotic _and _alien, huh?" Jack held up the business card in both hands. “Love your corporate logo, very chic. Makes me think… ‘sharp.’ ‘Cutting edge.’" He tucked the card under one arm. “So what have I got to _gain?_" 

"A massive jump in your weapons R&D. We’ve been making energon-powered weapons for millions of years." Knock Out pulled out what looked like a touch pad and scrolled through several holographic projections of weapon blueprints annotated in an alien language. “Think you’re ready for an eridium weapon that does more than spew a mining byproduct?" 

"Oh, I love that line, that’s a great line, it’d be perfect for marketing a new product line. Out with the slag, in with the new." 

"Also catchy," Knock Out said. “So. Intrigued?" 

Jack’s echo communicator beeped, and he held up a finger. “Let’s talk on the go." He strode toward the elevator—cargo elevator, unfortunately, to make sure a car-sized robot would fit. Knock Out kept pace with a leisurely stroll. “I’ve got a tour of Opportunity I’m running late for—and I mean _actually _late, not ‘I’m making them wait three hours standing outside in the heat so that by the time I arrive they’ve stopped being mad and are just grateful to see me’ late. You know what I mean?" 

"Oh, absolutely," Knock Out said, ducking to get into the elevator. “I’m a surgeon." 

Jack laughed so hard he bent over double. 

When he straightened up, still gasping for air, he said, “Hey, hey, this business deal—does it come with getting to drive you?" 

With a sideways glance and a coy smirk, Knock Out said, “Only if you’re gentle." He transformed back into a car and popped open the driver’s door. “My leather parts are sensitive." 

"Genuine leather?" Jack tossed the business card into the passenger seat and slid into the driver's seat. 

"_Obviously._" 

He fastened his seatbelt as the door shut itself. “_How _sensitive?" 

"Why don’t you find out?" 

Running his hands along the steering wheel, Jack whispered, “I really, _really _love this car."

**Author's Note:**

> Original post on [tumblr](https://ckret2.tumblr.com/post/188032349157/handsome-ride-1920)


End file.
